Semblance of Normalcy
by ladylala04
Summary: ON HIATUS: What's a bloke to do when he finds himself in love with his two best mates? Trio Harry/Ron/Hermione
1. Dammit pt 1

A/N: I absolutely love Triofic and this my first try at writing one. If you like it, tell me about it. If not, tell me about it anyway. Thanks!

A big thanks to Salon_Kitty for being a great Beta!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or the characters. They are a product of J.K. Rowling's wonderful mind. This story is purely a work of fiction and it serves for entertainment purposes only. I gain no monetary profit from this story.

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><p>Harry Potter was known as many things to many people. He was The Chosen One, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Savior of the Wizarding World, and several other silly, pompous titles that were all capitalized and hyphenated. <em>But<em>, Harry knew if his annoyingly adoring public had ever caught wind of his terrible secret, they certainly would never address him with those regal epithets. They would all call him what he truly thought himself to be: Harry Potter, the _Bloody Pervert_.

Though, that title seemed a bit harsh, he reckoned it fit. How else could someone describe a bloke who wanked, nearly nightly, to thoughts of his best mates in the throes of passion; wishing he could either (a. switch places with one of them or (b. join them in a steamy debauched three-way.

Harry spent many nights lying in his bed, conjuring up depraved images that involved broad shouldered redheads and/or curvaceous bushy-haired burnets. He would snake his hand into his pajama bottoms and wish that the firm grip on his hard manhood was Hermione's womanly tightness or perhaps Ron's even tighter arse. And sometimes, when he dared to touch that special spot behind his balls with spit drenched fingers, he pictured the immense pleasure he was receiving came from the tip of Ron's fingers or the tip of Hermione's cute little pink tongue.

Following the fantasies, he would cum, fall asleep sated, wake up feeling terribly guilty, and then rinse and repeat the next night. However, over time, the guilt he felt in the morning heavily played on his psyche. He was supposed to be their _best friend_ for Merlin's sake. He wasn't supposed to get-off over images of them giving him double fellatio, or he and Ron double penetrating Hermione. And after he got a raging hard-on from an innocent hug they had given him, he decided enough's enough, and vowed to never wank to them again.

However, that was easier said than done, considering the fact he shared a tiny flat with them, and their bedroom was right next door. It also didn't help matters much that the walls in their home were paper thin.

So, the night after he made his vow, Harry found himself on his bed with a pillow clutched over his head, desperately trying to drown out the soft moans and near silent squeaks of the mattress that belonged to his flatmates in the next room over. They must have been having a hell of a time, because he could still hear the sound of their love making after using a fairly decent _Muffliato _spell. Harry groaned as he applied another pillow over his head, wishing they would stop so he could force himself to go to sleep.

He wanted to wank, Merlin _knew _how bad he wanted to, but nothing, not even the satisfied sated feeling that overcame him afterwards, would assuage the guilty and self damning feelings that would assault him in the morning.

_What on earth could they be doing in there?_ He thought to himself. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift to his nasty thoughts. He pictured Hermione laying spread eagle, clutching fistfuls of Ron's bright, copper hair as he eagerly lapped at her sensitive clitoris. Harry rolled onto his back and absentmindedly palmed his straining erection through his clothes. _Maybe they're kinky_, he thought as a new image came into his mind. He imagined Ron on all fours, as Hermione rammed into him with that special device he once saw in an adult store he wandered into in Muggle London. His pre-cum was starting to dampen his pajamas.

When he heard a low wail coming from the other side of the wall, his world snapped back into focus. He needed to get out of the flat, and he needed to get out now! Harry flung himself from his bed and hastily put on a pair of discarded trousers he found on the floor. Not even caring he was still wearing his pre-cum soaked pajama bottoms underneath; he struggled to pull the zip over his insanely hard cock.

After finally getting fully dressed, he silently opened his bedroom door and slipped into the hallway only to hear Ron scream, "Fuck Hermione!" Harry thought it was impossible to get any harder than he was, but he was proven wrong.

Harry ran out of the flat and made a mad dash to the small alley across the street. He closed his eyes, focused on his destination, turned and __Disapparated__ on the spot_. _

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><p>There were only a few places in the Wizarding World that Harry felt he could be at ease and slightly let his guard down. Hogwarts was at the top of the list, followed closely by The Burrow, and in recent years Hog's Head had made the cut.<p>

Whenever he wanted some anonymity and to get pissed without an audience, the Hog's Head was the place to go, and tonight he would need a good stiff drink to rein in his rampant arousal.

Harry entered the shabby little pub and made a bee line straight to the private booth Aberforth, the landlord, had always saved for him. His fingers twitched anxiously as he waited for the older man to come over his way.

"Well, what do we 'ave 'ere?" Aberforth said with an amused chuckle. "I'd say it's a little late for a pub crawl, Mr. Potter."

"Look, I know what time it is. Just give me the strongest drink you have and make it quick." Harry replied a bit harsher than he intended.

Aberforth gave him a curious look with the same twinkling eyes as his brother. Then he gave Harry a cheeky bow and said, "Wha'ever you say boss."

Harry sank lower into his chair as he watched the old man walk away. He reminded himself to leave a nice big tip for him on his way out.

A few moments later, the old barkeep brought over a shot glass filled with clear liquid that had strange whiffs of blue and green smoke coming out of the top of it. Harry eyed the concoction cautiously. "This, my dear lad, is Tűz Pálinka. I guaranteed it's the strongest drink in all of Europe."

Harry grabbed the glass and made a move to knock the whole thing back, when suddenly Aberforth quickly wrestled the drink from his hand.

"For Merlin's sake Potter, are you tryin' to kill yourself? You sip Tűz Pálinka, not swallow it whole. I gave it to ya in a shot glass 'cause it's all I'm legally able to sell ya." After giving Harry a stern look, he returned the glass.

Harry looked rightfully embarrassed when he put the small glass to his lips, and he understood the barkeeps admonition because after taking a miniscule sip of the stuff, he felt as if his insides were set aflame with Fiendfyre. His entire body instantly flushed red, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his palms dripped with sweat. He was appreciative the burn only last a few seconds because he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take. He also noticed the effect the liquor had on his now flaccid manhood.

Grateful to be rid of his blasted 'problem', Harry sat back in the booth and welcomed the warm buzz that took over his mind.

In his heightened state, Harry began to ponder the great questions of life, like: Why was the sky blue? Why were roses red? Why couldn't he be like any normal bloke; fall in love with a nice girl, get married, and populate the earth with little green-eyed, messy haired versions of himself?

_Because nothing about you is normal. Nothing in your life has ever been normal_, he thought bitterly. Every part of his life was unconventional. It was as if his existence had been some big, sick cosmic joke. He was marked for death as an infant, raised in a cruel and unloving household, flung into a world he had no idea existed, eluded the clutches of lunatic, and lost far too many people he cared about. So why did he ever delude himself into thinking his love life could have some semblance of normalcy?

Harry felt the buzz wearing off, so he steadied himself for another sip. That time it wasn't too bad. He felt a less scorching heat shoot through his fingers and toes, leaving behind a warm tingly feeling all over.

_Ron…Hermione…How in the hell did I end up falling for the both of you, dammit?_

He knew that he always cared about them, but he had to seriously stop and think about how loving his mates evolved into him being _in_ love with his mates.


	2. Dammit pt 2

A/N: I just wanted to say thanks for reading and thank you Salon_Kitty for your great Beta work!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or the characters. They are a product of J.K. Rowling's wonderful mind. This story is purely a work of fiction and it serves for entertainment purposes only. I gain no monetary profit from this story.

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><p>Harry wasn't always the bloody perverted bastard he was today. He was once wholesome and innocent. Well, as wholesome and innocent as one could be when their secret ambition in life was to be the meat in a Ron-Hermione sandwich.<p>

Harry would always chuckle whenever he heard that expression. He thought it was one of the most absurd sexual innuendo phrases ever. Likening shagging to a lunchtime meal? He just didn't get it.

_Damn this __Tűz Pálinka is good. __I only had three sips and I already feel like I'm starting on my fourth ale_, the heavily buzzed brunette mused. He always slipped into a pensive state whenever he saw the bottom of his third pint. Ron had the uncanny ability to tell which round he was on by his mood. He could just hear the sexy git now, "Brooding, hmm…you must be done with your third. Have another so you can lighten up, you twit."

Harry reached for the glass to take another sip then stopped. He didn't feel like being lively or perky. He wanted to sit and brood about the complexities of love and attraction. He closed his eyes and thought about how he'd ended up in his current dilemma.

Well, he supposed it all started eleven years ago with a train, a pasty, and a missing amphibian; the train being the Hogwarts Express and the pasty being of the pumpkin variety. He remembered that day as if it were yesterday- sitting alone in an empty compartment, equal parts excited and scared witless about his journey to a new life and unknown future. And then enter Ron Weasley. The tall, peculiar looking ginger lad was all arms, legs, and freckles; and after a few shared Pumpkin Pasties and sweets, Harry decided that he was just… perfect.

Ron didn't make him feel like an unwanted burden as his family did. Ron didn't cast him aside and make him feel invisible like his Muggle peers did. Ron didn't ogle and revere him as if he was some sort of messianic figure like the other witches and wizards he had recently met. Ron made Harry feel like Harry, and for the first time in his life, he was ok with just being himself.

And before the enchanting feeling of acceptance fully sank in, he was rudely introduced to a loud, brash, bushy-haired, know-it-all, wrapped up in an irritating little package called Hermione Granger.

Before working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and before the inception of S.P.E.W., Hermione's first humanitarian aid effort was helping a downtrodden little lad find his lost pet frog. She was so confident, intelligent, and assertive. She was everything Harry thought he wasn't but secretly wished he could be, and now he realized that jealousy was the reason why, in the beginning, he and Ron avoided her like the plague.

Then after a series of events which included: a troll, self-sacrificial chess, Voldermort on the back of a guy's head, the Heir of Slytherin, polyjuice, petrification, giant spiders and snakes, a black dog, an escaped convict, and a werewolf, Harry's bond with Ron and Hermione deepened.

While his peers were discovering their newfound sexual awareness and interacting with the opposite gender, Harry was busy trying to survive a treacherous tournament and cope with seeing someone he knew die. So when mother nature finally caught up with him, she used her most devious weapon; a wet dream.

Harry remembered waking up one morning confused and sweaty in cum laden sheets. He had just had the most mental dream about him and Ron doing… _stuff_ together. Stuff he only saw glimpses of men and women doing when he went down stairs late at night for a glass of water while Dudley was secretly watching the telly. The dream made him feel dirty and weird. The dream made him feel that maybe there was some validity in the Dursley's claims of him being a freak. His questionable sexuality coupled with being kept in the dark from the Wizarding World is what caused somewhat-regular Harry to become filled with angst. Fifth year was one of the most turbulent times of his life. He still doesn't like to think about that year. He felt that his sanity was rapidly unraveling with Dumbledore and his secrets, Snape and his cruelty, and then he was having strange sexual dreams about Hermione. WASN'T HE SUPPOSED TO BE GAY?

He needed a break. He needed to focus on something other than the tragedy that was called his life and him wanting to fuck a bloke. Cho seemed like the answer. She was pretty and she was a girl and she wasn't Hermione. However, just like everything else in his life, his little foray with her ended badly.

Then two major events happened to him. Sirius died and he almost lost the two people closest to him due to his kick-ass-first-ask-questions-later attitude. Seeing Ron and Hermione lying in the infirmary after the Department of Mysteries fiasco made Harry finally acknowledge that his feelings for them went beyond being best mates and even further beyond familial affections. The realization that he was _in _love with them frightened the hell out of him.

If he told them, how would they react? Would Hermione write a three-foot parchment detailing all the reasons a relationship between them would never work? Would Ron beat the shite out of him for being a poofter and possibly stealing looks at him in the showers? Through all their adventures, they had stayed by his side and he never wanted to drive them away because he couldn't keep his own emotions in check. So, he decided ignoring his amorous intentions for them was in all of their best interest.

When he smelled _Amortentia_in sixth year, he made himself believe he smelled treacle tart, a broomstick, and something flowery that he thought he might have smelled at the Burrow. When in actuality, it was Hermione's cinnamon shampoo and the brand of ink she always used. It was also mixed with the smell of Ron's breath after he had eaten too many chocolate frogs and the redhead's musky scent after a vigorous pickup game of Qudditch at the Burrow. With some effort, the girl in his dreams no longer had brown curls and he traded the redhead's broad shoulders for breasts. Slowly but surely, he found a person to replace them that had some of the same qualities he found so enduring. She was intelligent, brave, witty, and confident. She was Ginny Weasley and Harry was more than happy to love and have her in his life. Then the war started and everything changed.

People important to him were dying left and right and they had Horcruxes to destroy; it was a living nightmare. Harry tried to keep Ginny a strong influence in his heart, but she was gradually becoming a weaker force.

Ron leaving during that rainy night in the tent had been a severe blow not only to the mission, but to their friendship. The weeks of his absence were some of the hardest he ever experienced but the only thing that comforted him was Hermione. The time they spent together was bittersweet and it reaffirmed his emotional connection to her. He was almost tempted to go and tell her his feelings then suddenly the silver doe appeared and he was given a reason never to reveal his secret: Ron and the Slytherin Locket.

He never knew his friend harbored such ill thoughts about himself. Ron thinking his mother loved him the least was preposterous, and all that stuff about Hermione choosing Harry over… well wasn't that partially what he wanted anyway? For Hermione to accept his feelings and love him as well? For Ron to declare his undying devotion for the both of them and everything working out in the end? Well how could that ever happen if the one thought that almost drove his mate insane involved Hermione actually wanting Harry?

When all was said and done, and the horrifying locket lay shattered upon that flat stone, Harry knew what he had to do. He wanted to keep Ron and Hermione in his life, even if it meant a lifetime of lying to himself and denying his feelings. He forced himself to say he only saw Hermione as a sister and he told himself that he would take the real way he felt about them to his grave, which surprisingly didn't happen as soon as he thought.

He defeated Voldermort and saved the world. He survived and now it was time to play Happily Ever After. So he tried his damnedest to fit in the role everyone wanted him to be in. He tried to hold on to the illusion of being in love with Ginny, but with each passing day, his perfect vision of a happy-ever-after with her was dimming. Until, one day Ginny just had enough and decided a clean break was what they both needed. Them no longer being together was all Harry's twisted little mind needed to take its dark descent into carnal lust.

He had wanked to thoughts of Ron and Hermione in his Hogwarts days. However, now it seemed to have come back with a vengeance. But the perpetual deviant notions and obsessive wanking kept the _other_ thoughts at bay. The other thoughts that almost made him risk everything and tell them the truth. The thoughts that made him continue to believe the Dursley's were right about him after all; that he was indeed a _freak_.

Harry shook his head to clear his mind. He certainly didn't mean to take that long and detailed a trip down memory lane, but when you don't have your drinking partner there to encourage you to drink until you make an arse out of yourself, that's what happens.

He pushed the half empty glass to the side and pulled out his wallet. He placed a large enough stack of _galleon_s on the table that would pay for the drink and keep Aberforth smiling for a week. When he was closing up his wallet, he took a quick glimpse at his business card and smiled. In bold black letters it read: Harry Potter, Junior Auror. He really liked his business cards because his title on them was simple and it described who he was. He often joked to himself that magical folk would better recognize him if his cards had The-Boy-Who-Lived or The Chosen One printed on them.

Harry nodded at Aberforth as he made his way out the door and headed to the __Disapparation__ point.

Maybe he should print out his own cards with his proper title on them, and in the spirit of capitals and hyphens it would read: Harry Potter, The-Man-Who-Was-In-Love-With-His-Two-Best-Mates-But-Is-Too-Shamed-And-Chicken-Shit-To-Ever-Admit-It-To-Them-Dammit! Then it would follow up with his business address and contact information.

Harry let out a little snigger before he vanished.

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><p>End Notes: Sorry I didn't deliver the promise of Smut, Smut, and more Smut in this chapter. I always wanted to set up a back story for the Trio. I promise the next chapter will be nice and smutty.<p> 


	3. Missed Connections pt 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or the characters. They are a product of J.K. Rowling's wonderful mind. This story is purely a work of fiction and it serves for entertainment purposes only. I gain no monetary profit from this story.

Thanks again Salon_Kitty for your fast Beta work and for helping me with my pronoun problem. =P

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><p>By the time Harry made it back to the flat, the sun had already beaten him home. He flopped backwards on his bed and cast a lazy <em>Tempus<em>. The ghostly white numbers wisped into existence and hovered in front of his face. Harry groaned when he saw the time and rolled over onto his stomach. He was completely knackered but he was due to report into work in an hour and a half. Since he didn't have enough time to get a proper kip, he figured he might as well get up and start his day.

He went to his wardrobe and pulled out some fresh clothes, grabbed a towel, and headed to the shower. On his way to the loo, he had to pass Ron and Hermione's room. He wasn't surprised to see the door wide open and them missing because it had become sort of a ritual for them to go and make breakfast together after a great night of shagging. He could hear and smell the eggs and rashers sizzling in the pan.

When Harry reached for the handle of the door to the loo, he was startled because it was suddenly snatched away. He quickly withdrew his hand when his eyes settled on an amazing sight. Ron stood before him, soaking wet and ABSOLUTELY NAKED! Well, he did have a flimsy maroon towel wrapped around his waist, but Harry's mind didn't immediately register that.

"Harry," Ron said taking a step forward invading the brunette's personal space. "I've been looking all over for you. We really need to talk." The heavenly scent of toothpaste and aftershave assaulted Harry's senses.

Ron grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him down the hallway. Harry stared at the strong muscles of the Ron's back as they walked hastily. He found himself utterly hypnotized by the towel around his mate's hips. Every step he took, the towel slipped lower; threatening to expose the very top of his very lickable cleft.

Ron pulled Harry into his and Hermione's room and quickly shut the door. He grabbed his wand from the night stand and in rapid succession cast a locking and silencing charm. Harry shifted nervously wondering why his mostly naked friend would pull him into his room and lock and silence the door. Ron turned on him and got into his personal space again. When Harry took a step back, Ron took another one forward. Harry was starting to get very nervous.

Why was Ron getting so close? Was he…could he be… was he trying to… Harry's mind was going wild with thoughts!

_Oh Gods, oh Gods! Breathe, Potter, breathe! Wait, don't breathe too much you haven't cleaned your teeth yet!_

Harry's retreating steps ended when the back of his legs hit the bed. Ron stopped and gave him a curious look. "Well, aren't you gonna sit down?" The only reason Harry obeyed was because his knees gave out. What was going to happen? What was Ron going to do?

"Harry," Ron said with a seriously sexy look. "I need to talk to you about… Hermione."

With just those few words Harry's pathetic hopes of a tryst were shattered. What the hell was wrong with him? Did he really believe that the very-straight-Ron would try to _do _something with him while his beautiful girlfriend was just down the hall making them all a wonderful breakfast? Harry had sunk to an all new low. This was worse then the time he had gotten a stiffy while they had hugged him in appreciation for starting a load of laundry for them.

Ron began to pace back and forth nervously. Harry couldn't help but to notice what a magnificent creature his friend had become. The scrawny body with lanky limbs and awkward movements was long gone. Ron now had a muscular build and more graceful movements thanks to his near three years of Auror training. The bloke looked like he could be a professional Quidditch Beater or a Rugby player if he learned the sport. Ron's current state of undress was making it hard for Harry to sit still. Ron stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and faced Harry.

"Well, you see… you know how much I love Hermione. She's a wonderful woman and we've been so happy but _blah blah blah_… Harry tried so hard to listen to his worried friend but he found himself terribly distracted by a droplet of water that was starting to travel over the shoulder of the burly man in front of him. It ran slowly over his chiseled chest and came to a near-stop by his dusty-pink left nipple. Harry licked his lips and swallowed.

_Pay attention, you daft sod_. He reprimanded himself.

"… and I've been having wonky thoughts lately about _blah blah blah blah_…." Harry's mind slipped again while Ron continued speaking. The water droplet was on the move. It crept its way from the nipple and cascaded down the steep slope of Ron's tight stomach. It zigged and zagged around his navel and graced the light trail of ginger hair that led to the grand prize before getting absorbed by the towel. That instant, Harry felt his nether region stir.

Oh, how he wished he could trace the droplet's trail with his tongue.

"Harry."

He would stop and work the nipple a little longer though.

"Harry."

He also would give kisses and nibbles down the stomach before grabbing the towel and…

"Harry! Did you hear a word I said?" near-panicked Ron shouted.

"Yes! No! I mean, yes, Ron, I heard you. Well, could you repeat the last part again?"

"I said," Ron repeated slightly annoyed. "I'm going to ask Hermione to marry me and I want us to elope as soon as possible!"

Harry felt like his heartbeat had stopped and someone had killed his budding erection with a well aimed _Avada Kedavra_.

No. This wasn't supposed to happen yet. He should have had at least another two years with them before they went off together leaving him all alone. What was he going to do with them going now? He hadn't even started to build his cool Charlie-like persona of a lifetime bachelor/playboy whom transcended traditional relationships.

"WHAT?" Harry shouted.

"Blimey, Harry, what's wrong with you this morning? I… said… I'm… going… to… ask…" Ron spoke to Harry as if he were a dimwit.

"I heard what you said, you git!" Harry jumped to his feet and began pacing like Ron had a few moments ago. What was he going to do? What was he going to do? Harry glanced at Ron and saw the look of panic etched all over his face.

_You're going to stop being a selfish prat and attend to your friend who obviously needs your support right now_,he told himself. Harry stopped pacing and let out a sigh.

"Ron, I know you and Hermione are serious now, but don't you think you're rushing things a bit, mate?"

"Harry, I already told you why I have to do it. You nodded your head the entire time I was explaining it to you. Why do you have a problem with it now?" Ron asked.

Damn, damn, damn! Harry had missed the most important part of the conversation because of that damned water droplet. Why the hell did Ron have to gallivant around partially nude and distract him? Why couldn't he be body-shy like a normal person? Now Harry couldn't admit he wasn't listening because it might cause Ron to ask why, and he definitely wasn't going to tell him.

"Uhh," Harry tried to throw him off. "W-Why do you want to elope?"

"Because I need to do it right now. "

"What about your family?"

"I don't think I can handle Mum and her wedding planning madness. George barely survived it last year. "

"Ron, you cannot rob your Mum of seeing her youngest boy walking down the aisle. That wouldn't be fair to her, and eloping wouldn't be fair to Hermione's family either. "

"Well, what am I suppose to do Harry?"

"I really suggest you slow down and go about this the proper way. What if you propose and tell her you want to elope and she turns you down. How would you feel then?"

"I would be devastated. "

"Then all the more reason to do it right, don't you think?" Ron frowned but reluctantly nodded his head.

Harry smiled at his friend and turned towards the door expecting the wards to come down because the conversation was over, but when they didn't, Harry glanced over and saw that Ron was still looking edgy. He thought they had already talked the problem out. What else could have made him upset?

"Ron, what's wrong?" Harry asked sincerely.

"I know we talked about the marriage bit, but you didn't say what you thought about the other stuff I mentioned. " Ron's panic was replaced with fright.

Harry stood and tried to hide the utterly perplexed look on his face. Exactly just how much of their little talk did he actually miss? Judging by Ron's horrified look, he must have confided something terrible to Harry, and now he was waiting to see how his friend would react. Harry couldn't admit he had no idea what he was talking about. So, he decided to bluff his way through until somehow he could get to a Pensive and sort it out later.

Harry placed his hand on Ron's shoulder and gave him a little pat. "Don't worry about that other stuff; it's going to be ok. You're still my mate no matter what. Just relax, everything will be fine in the end, you'll see. "

When Harry went to remove his hand, Ron did something that he didn't expect. The redhead suddenly turned and swept him up into a massive hug, wrapping his long freckled arms around his waist. Harry's body stiffened from a moment of hesitation then he slowly enclosed his arms around Ron's neck.

Under any normal circumstance, Harry's lascivious mind would be busy trying to analyze the exact feel of the man he held so intimately and file the memory away to use as wanking fodder later. However, this hug was different and the moment was not to be defiled. There was so much emotion pouring into the hug, that Harry felt like it was déjà vu. And instead of being lost and frightened in a snowy wood by a frozen lake, they were warm and safe in a now peaceful world. As great as the feeling had been, the only thing that could have made it truly divine was if the woman down the hall was sharing the moment with them.

The warm moist heat of Ron's breath blowing gently against his ear is what brought Harry back to the present.

Ron let out a heavy sigh and whispered, "Thank you for understanding Harry. I know what I just told you was a hell of a shocker, but thanks for not turning your back on me. " Ron gave him a tighter squeeze then let him go. He let the wards down, and then opened the door.

"Sorry about yakking your ear off, I really needed to get that off my chest. That's why I was looking for you last night. Where'd you go anyway?"

"I, umm," Harry was still trying to come down from the high Ron's hug had given him. "I went to Hog's Head for a drink. "

"In the middle of the night?"

"I really wanted one at the time. "

"Oh, is everything alright?" Ron looked concerned.

"Yea, everything is fine. Promise," Harry lied.

"Ok, well I guess I'll see you at breakfast. Smells like Hermione started cooking without me. " Ron gave another smile before closing the door with Harry on the other side of it.

Harry turned and walked in a daze to the loo. Ron just told him a deep dark secret and he had no idea what it could have been. He hoped that maybe he didn't need a Pensive. Perhaps a little time in the shower would help jog his memory; if it didn't then he'd be totally screwed.


	4. Missed Connections pt 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or the characters. They are a product of J.K. Rowling's wonderful mind. This story is purely a work of fiction and it serves for entertainment purposes only. I gain no monetary profit from this story.

A/N: I want to say thank you, Thank You, THANK YOU! to Salon_Kitty for co-writing the smut scene. Girl, you transformed that mess I wrote into a Gem. You are greatly appreciated! Well readers, this chapter was way to graphic for this site so I had to edit it from NC-17 to a hard R. I am too afraid of this site's mods to post it here so if you want to see the uncensored version send me a PM and I'll tell you where to find it. Thanks for reading.

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><p>Harry firmly shut and locked the door to the loo and fell heavily against it. He breathed deeply as he felt the last vestiges of Ron's hug leave his body. The light easy feeling the contact had given him was rapidly being replaced with trepidation. Wanting to escape the suddenly claustrophobic space, he quickly stripped naked, turned the shower as hot as it would go, and hopped into the steamy downpour.<p>

When the water made contact with Harry's bare flesh, he let out a scream through clenched teeth. Damn, it was _HOT_, but he would have to grit and bare it if he wanted to dissipate his rising anxiety. After several torturous minutes when his mind and body had become comfortably numb, he cut the heat down to his customary temperature of just below boiling. He rested his forehead against the tiled wall as the spray streamed down around him. The crescendo of the falling water muted his senses and blocked out all sounds except for that of his own breathing.

Focusing on that rhythmic noise, Harry opened his mind and replayed all the events that happened between him and Ron that morning. He remembered seeing Ron standing in the door way in all of his wet glory and the hurried walk down the hallway. He also remembered being locked in the room and gawking at his poor friend while the other man was spilling his guts. However, he could only recall some of what was being said.

_You know how much I love Hermione. She's a wonderful woman and we've been so happy but_… but what? There were literally hundreds of scenarios that could be derived from that sentence. What would cause a bloke to feel that he had to hastily marry his bird? Harry pondered the possibilities.

_We've been so happy but-_- I think there maybe someone else, she's thinking about moving away, she's pregnant? Harry's heart fluttered with that last prospect. What if she were pregnant? It would be brilliant! He knew she'd be a fantastic mother and Ron would be a cool laid-back father and he himself would just be happy to be a da- Harry instantly stopped that notion. There he went again with his self-insertion problem. He chided himself for almost letting his _other_ thoughts slip in. He tried so hard to clear them out of his mind but they would rear up every now and then.

He told himself that if Hermione were pregnant, his role in the child's life would be Uncle or God-father and that was it. No matter how very much he wanted to be _more, _that's all he ever could be because they surely would never love him the way he loved them. And if even by some small miracle they ever could, society would say it was wrong.

Frankly, he could personally give two fucks about what society thought of him, but he knew the scandal would ruin not only Hermione's and Ron's budding careers but it would also affect the whole Weasley clan. The Wizarding World had come a long way in improving its prejudices, but certain things such as one's sexual preferences was still a hot topic of taboo. If being gay was greatly frowned upon and openly scorned in their world then being in a triad had to be at least ten times worse, he felt.

Harry's futile dreams of having a _real_ family with his best mates and hopefully fathering a child with them only caused heartache and depression, so imagining being with them physically appeased his longing better then imagining being with them in a true relationship.

Although he promised himself that he would never wank to them again, he honestly had to because his brain had become so full of various emotions in the past few minutes, that he could not concentrate on Ron's mysterious message. He needed a release to think clearly; a primal release.

He needed to climax hard so he let his mind delve into his kinky thoughts and conjure up one of his favorite fantasies. In this particular setup, he and Hermione were having a secret one-off in the shower while Ron was away at training. He closed his eyes and let himself drift...

_He's walking up to the door of the loo, eager for first dibs on the shower with Ron away for overnight-training...his hand is on the doorknob but as he's stepping inside he can hear the shower already in use. A face peeks around the curtain surrounded by wet curls...it's her, and she's smiling at him, getting him hard on the spot._

Harry ran his hands down his belly as he pictured her, standing right where he was now, his grip taking hold of his rising manhood...

_She's talking to him. _

_"I'm so sorry. I know you like to get the shower first, but I woke up early and thought I would be done before you got up. "_

_He's nodding, it's fine, he says, turning to go, but then she's inviting him to join her and he doesn't think twice before he's dropping his trousers and tugging at his shirt, his excitement barely contained as he reaches for the curtain to pull it back._

_Gods, she's a beauty, his eyes drinking her in as she soaps up her ample breasts, a few fingers disappearing amidst the soft, smooth thatch between her legs. Then he's in there with her and she's putting her hands behind his head, pulling him to her lips for a searing kiss and he wants her desperately, his hands obscenely groping her._

_She growls at him in satisfaction but then she's suddenly descending down his body, cruelly biting and sucking at his neck, stretching his nipples with her teeth, before nipping painfully at his torso. But it's good, he's a semi-submissive pain freak, right? He loves every fucking minute of it._

He moaned aloud at the thought. Oh, Merlin, how he would love for Hermione to hurt him like that, and he tugged at himself a bit more forcefully and pinched one of his nipples...

_Just when she's about to take him in her mouth and swallow him whole, the curtain is torn back and Ron is standing there looking furious. He must have come home early. A death glare is bared at the two of them, and then suddenly Ron grabs Hermione, hauls her against the wall, and snogs the hell out of her as he rips off his clothes. _

Harry increased the speed of his tugs…

_Ron's giving vicious kisses and Hermione returns them with ruthless ones of her own. When Ron gets down to his pants, he grabs both of her harden nubs, squeezes and twists, making her squeal in painful delight._

Harry stopped and clutched his nature hard to keep from cumming because _bloody hell_, just _thinking_ about Hermione taking punishment and reveling in it almost made him lose his load. It was too soon for that plus he hadn't even gotten to his favorite part yet. When the sensation died down a little he resumed.

_Now fully nude, Ron pulls away from the panting and wanton witch and turns his icy blue gaze to him. Ron comes towards him in slow motion, gets behind him in the shower, and unleashes one of his amazing kisses on him as he wrenches Harry's head painfully backward. His neck is twisted so far it feels ready to snap but then Ron's is grinding into him, causing a wonderful friction against him. _

Harry tread two fingers over his lips fantasizing what a kiss from Ron would be like. He hoped it would be as brutal and passionate as the one he imagined Ron giving Hermione. He was on the edge of having a nuclear orgasm and needed more stimulation to set it off.

Merlin he was close, so close…

"Fuuuck!" he moaned out loud, momentarily forgetting he was not home alone. His balls were tightening and his toes were curling with thoughts of Ron performing dirty and taboo acts on him.

_The pressure was building and building until…_

Harry came with a stifled shout; vaguely remembering there were people just down the hall. Rope after rope of pearly white cum spilled on the shower floor; his arse hole squeezing the life out of the two fingers he had nestled inside. He had to prop himself up to keep from falling over. When the last of it was done, he released his cock and gently removed his abused fingers from his stretched hole.

Damn, he had over done it. Instead of clearing his mind he had turned it to mush. After such a spectacular climax, he couldn't remember the rest of what Ron had said. Hell, he could barely even remember his own last name. Now he would be forced to use a Pensive, if he could get his hands on one. In recent years, the Ministry had strict regulations on the use of the devices because of a disturbing trend that involved wizards and witches selling their most terrible memories on the black market. Apparently, some very _sick _individuals were willing to pay top galleons for a front row view of a Death Eater attack or witnessing unspeakable acts of abuse. Regular people could no longer own them in their home, and a court-order had to be obtained in order to even use them. However, with a lot finagling and throwing around the Boy-Who-Lived card, he might have a chance at one.

The water now ice cold, Harry quickly washed, making sure to be gentle with his sensitive genitals. He completed the rest of his ablutions, got dressed, and headed to the kitchen. His breakfast was sitting on the stove with a heating charm and a note that read:

_Dear Harry,_

_Sorry you have to eat breakfast alone. I have an early appointment with the representatives from the Banshee Alliance for Rights and Fairness and Ron rushed out saying he had some important business to attend to. I brewed your favorite tea and left the Daily Prophet for you on the table. I hope you have a wonderful day!_

_With Love and Warm Regards, _

_Hermione (and Ron if he didn't dash out so quickly)_

Harry smiled at the note. He had a feeling he knew what the 'important business' was that Ron had to attend. He sat down and tucked into his breakfast. He sighed at the prospect of eating alone but the way things were going, it was a feeling he quickly had to get used to.


	5. Getting Started

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or the characters. They are a product of J.K. Rowling's wonderful mind. This story is purely a work of fiction and it serves for entertainment purposes only. I gain no monetary profit from this story.

Thanks to you all for your reviews and suggestions and thanks again Salon_Kitty for Beta-ing my fic.

* * *

><p>After clearing the morning dishes away, Harry grabbed his satchel and Auror robe off the back of his chair. His mind was still feeling a bit sluggish from the vigorous wanking session he'd had earlier. Normally, a light kip was in order after such an atomic climax. He couldn't take one because he was due for work; though he really wished he could because he practically hadn't gotten any sleep last night. Harry let out a deep yawn. He was sure a shot of Pepper-Up potion would be needed before the day was out.<p>

As he made his way towards the door, he glanced at some of the pictures that lined the walls of the sitting room. He noticed the one with Bill and his family standing in front of Shell Cottage smiling and waving energetically; one with the mischievous duo, Teddy and Freddy, just before they pranked an unsuspecting Percy, and a Muggle photo of the Grangers at their wedding anniversary.

When Harry's eyes fell on the picture he'd been trying to avoid looking at for the past six weeks, he slowed his steps down a bit. It was a photo of Ginny and him standing in front of the Harpies Quidditch Pitch just after she made the team.

They looked so happy together.

Gods, he had such a good thing going with her; why the hell did he have to go and bollix it all up? Why couldn't he just be happy with her? Why couldn't he just _settle_ for her?

Ginny was everything a bloke could ever want in a woman. She was beautiful, caring, humorous, but above all else, she was loyal. Harry hated and was ashamed to admit that deep down, on some subconscious level; he sort of exploited that attribute. Being deprived of love for most of his life and knowing he would never have what he truly wanted, he became enchanted with the notion of Ginny loving him and he was absolutely thrilled to be with her towards the end of sixth year. However, the lie of him falling in love quickly fell apart but the intoxicating feeling of someone actually being _in_ love with him didn't wane.

Seeing how she waited for him to return her feelings, and she waited for him to return from his Horocrux hunt; he just expected or her to always be there. So when he began to emotionally drift away and started unintentionally doing stupid and inconsiderate boyfriend stuff, he figured she would simply forgive him.

Ginny's loyalty and patience, however, didn't last forever. After the Harpies won their first match she told Harry she thought they should go their separate ways. And that was it. He didn't blame her though; she deserved a better man who could love her the proper way. It was honestly a great decision for them both. But on some of his loneliest days, he couldn't help but to think how his life could have been, if only he hadn't taken her for granted and if only he wasn't under the bewitching spell of unrequited love.

He went out of the flat and shut the door behind him. He didn't have time to ponder about the what-could-have-been's this morning. He crossed the street to the discreet alley-way and Disapparated.

* * *

><p>Harry quickly approached a crowded lift and slipped inside just before the doors closed. The small enclosed space was tightly packed with people who quietly gossiped and chatted amongst each other. Silently, he counted how long it would take for someone on the lift to recognize him. He knew it was a terribly vain game to play, but it helped pass the time on the uncomfortable ride down.<p>

With the Ministry of Magic being such a vastly staffed institution, a person could be employed there for twenty years and still not know all of the people who worked in his or her own department. Unfortunately, Harry didn't have the pleasure of anonymity here.

… _6… 7…. 8… 9-_

"Look Margret, it's him! It's Harry Potter," a woman excitedly whispered behind him.

_Well, nine seconds, that's a new record._ Harry thought to himself.

"No, it isn't. Harry Potter is much taller than that." 'Margret' replied.

Harry smirked to himself. That always seemed to be the complaint whenever people met him in person. It was like they expected him to be eight feet tall or something. Well, with all the wild stories Wizardingtabloidshad been printing about him over the years, he shouldn't be too surprised that people were disappointed to know that he was actually a normal looking, average height bloke.

He got off on Level Two and went down the corridor to Auror Headquarters.

Some days, Harry could hardly believe that he was actually living out his teenage dream of becoming an Auror. He still thanked his lucky stars that Kingsley convinced the heads of the Magical Law Enforcement to temporarily relax the strict requirements for Auror admittance. Though it really didn't take much convincing; the department was horribly understaffed due to the death, disappearances, and corruption of several of its employees during the war. When the Ministry offered Auror candidacy, for a three year period, to any individuals who fought against Voldermort in the final battle, Harry made sure he was one of the first people in the queue.

He entered the heavy ornate doors, gave a smile and a nod to the receptionist, and navigated his way through the maze of mostly empty cubicles to his own, or what he liked to call the 'greenhouse' because he shared the space with fellow Junior Auror, Neville Longbottom.

"Morning Neville," Harry said taking a seat.

"Mornin' Harry," Neville replied with a rush between whispering _Augumenti _to water his vast assortment of greenery.

Harry always admired Neville's passion and dedication to his plants, even if it could be a bit annoying at times. Especially when Neville's growing collection began to encroach on his side of the cubicle, but since all Junior Aurors had to share cubicles until they earned the right of having their own, which normally happened when one crossed over to the Auror grade, Harry learned to tolerate it. With Neville being one of his mates and the only person he totally trusted in his graduating class, sharing with someone else was out of the question.

Harry looked around and noticed that there was a new addition to their greenhouse sitting on the corner of his desk. The long thin prickly leaves of the tiny plant sort of reminded him of hairy spider legs.

"I see you have a new one here." Harry said probing at it with the end of his quill.

"Uh… yea," Neville said, turning and facing Harry after watering the last one. "It just came in this morning. Luna came upon it on her expedition in Nigeria and said that the natives there use it as a symbol for protection and luck. I hope you don't mind." He said scratching the back of his head and giving an apologetic shrug.

"No, Its fine; I really like it actually. Maybe it will protect the quills and sweets Ron always nicks from my desk whenever his class comes for a tour."

Neville gave a knowing chuckle. Almost everyone who knew Ron knew of his arachnophobia.

"Speaking of Ron," Neville said taking a seat. "I ran into him this morning in Diagon Alley. I tell you the bloke didn't look too well. He was all pale and clammy; like he'd just run into a nest of Acromantula. I asked him what was the matter and he told me he had to make a life or death decision today. So let me guess, is he finally going to ask Hermione to marry him?"

Harry shook his head. Ron could be so dramatic at times.

"Between you and me, that's exactly what he plans on doing, I think."

"That's wonderful. It's about time those two settled down. Honestly, I thought they would be the first to get married in our group. I was really surprised that Luna and I got engaged before them."

"Yeah, I guess it is about time they settled down." Harry said hoping he didn't sound jaded.

"Hey, with those two going, you can have a proper bachelor's pad now." Neville waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry forced a smile, not wanting Neville to know how upset he really was over Ron and Hermione's eventual departure from their shared home.

Neville shoved a few things from his desk into his bag and stood up.

"Well I'm off. See-ya." he said slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking out of the cubicle.

"Yeah, see-ya," Harry replied without turning around. Then Harry thought for a moment and shouted for him to come back. When Neville poked his head from around the corner, Harry went over to him.

"You have recruit duty this week right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah."

"Could you do me a favor? When you see Ron, could you tell him to meet me at that Muggle pub he likes around noon?"

"Sure thing, Harry."

"Thanks, Neville. I'll talk to you later."

Neville gave a little nod and walked away.

Harry sighed and went back to his desk. Judging by Neville's descriptions of his best mate's appearance, he knew that Ron was teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown due to his impending proposal. He wished he could switch schedules with someone assigned recruit duty so he could be closer to Ron, but he knew no one would be willing to give it up because that duty was everyone's favorite.

Every few months, Junior Aurors spent a week mentoring and refining their skills with the upcoming graduating class of Auror recruits. Harry had recently had the duty and wouldn't be able to do one for another few weeks. So the only time he could see and talk to Ron was during lunch hour. He hoped his friend could keep his cool until then.

* * *

><p>Harry entered the busy little pub, found a nice secluded booth, and placed a lunch order for Ron and himself. As he waited, he couldn't stop the happy fluttering in his heart because although he was worried about Ron, he was ecstatic because he actually got to work with Hermione today!<p>

Aonghus Lyons, the Auror he was assigned to shadow for the week, had just busted a big magical creature smuggling ring and needed help identifying and securing a new home for the creatures that were seizedand placed into custody. Lyons asked Harry to be in charge of the sorting and said that he would be partnered with a representative from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. When Harry asked him the name of the rep, he was delighted to find it was Hermione.

Apparently, she scheduled her meeting with B.A.R.F. early so she would be able to volunteer with the Auror Department.

Twenty minutes later, she met him at the Ministry Stables, looking sexy with her hair tied and the sleeves of her robes rolled up ready to work. Harry spent the rest of the morning in the company of the clever witch whom he so much adored. They laughed and joked and teased each other the entire time, and the best part was he was going to get to work with her again tomorrow.

Harry pulled out his golden pocket watch and checked the time. He still had a few more minutes to wait until Ron arrived. He wished Hermione could have joined them but she said she had to attend an important business lunch. Her job always kept her so busy, that's why it was such a treat to be able to spend some time with her. And because they worked so closely together, Harry couldn't help but to grope her with his eyes whenever she wasn't looking.

He knew it was terrible and utterly perverted to do something like that, but _damn_, Hermione had a great body. When it got too warm in the stables, they removed their robes and Harry was able to get a nice view of her. He rarely got a chance to take in her lovely curves because of the fear of getting his face smashed in by the large freckled fist of her very large and very jealous boyfriend who always happened to be nearby. But, with it being just the two of them Harry was free to look all he wanted, and that he did.

Several times that morning, he caught himself staring at her fit arse whenever she bent over to look in a cage, or watched her breast slightly bounce whenever she cast flourishing spells. And when she gave him a goodbye hug, the only thing that kept his prick from spearing her through the stomach, was imagining Mundungus giving him a seductive belly dance.

Harry cast his attention to the entrance of the pub when a familiar shade of red caught his eye. Ron had arrived and was shuffling his way through the crowd. Harry noted that Neville was right in his descriptions because his mate looked absolutely terrible. Ron spotted him in the booth and came and sat down in a huff.

Before Harry could greet him or say anything, Ron blurted, "I can't do it, Harry!" and put his head in his hands.

_This is going to be a rough lunch_. Harry thought.

"What happened Ron? You were so determined to ask her this morning. Why have you suddenly changed your mind?"

Ron lifted his head up and began to rake his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know what happened. I was so pumped up about it this morning that I dashed out to Jacob the Transfiguration Specialist to get Hermione a specially made ring. But as soon as I brought it and stuck it in my pocket, I guess the reality of what it really meant finally struck me. Merlin's saggy left bpllocks, Harry! I'M GOING TO ASK HERMIONE TO BE MY WIFE!" Ron yelled loudly.

The patrons in the pub all turned to look at them. Harry discreetly reached in his pocket and cast an aversion spell. Hopefully it was strong enough to keep the crowd from paying any attention to them, but weak enough to allow the waitress to bring them their orders.

"You need to calm down before you get yourself in a tizzy," Harry reprimanded him.

"Bloody Hell, marriage is a seriously huge step. I mean I _think _I'm ready. No, I _know_ I'm ready. Well, I _think _I _know_ I'm ready but what if she isn't? What if she…"

Ron rambled on and on about all of the reasons Hermione would not agree to marry him. He didn't even pause when the waitress brought their food. Harry really hated seeing Ron like this and was glad his 'freak-outs' only happened on rare occasions. Ron had come a long way in improving his self-image but sometimes when he was terribly stressed about something, his insecurities would rear its ugly head. Harry knew a firm talking-to often snapped him out his oppressive thoughts.

Harry reached across the table and grabbed one of Ron's hands that were furiously raking through his hair.

"Look," Harry snapped to get his attention. "You put it in your head that you were going to do this, so do it. Don't let any negative factors get in the way of something you clearly want. We both know that Hermione is mad for you and I'm sure she will be ready when you ask, and if she's not that's fine as well. It's just something the two of you will have to work through. But please, whatever you do, don't throw in the towel before you even start the fight."

Harry released his hand and sat back in his chair. Ron gazed at him for a few seconds then absent mindedly picked up a chip and popped it in his mouth. Harry knew that that was a good sign. They ate in silence for several moments before Ron spoke up.

"So I'm really going to do this, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah, I guess you are. Have you planned on how to go about?"

"There's a way you have to go about it? I just thought you brought a girl a ring, got on your knees when she wasn't expecting it, and asked her to marry you."

"Well, that's essentially what you're doing, but women like for that kind of stuff to be special, romantic even."

"I have no idea. Do you have any suggestions?"

Boy, did he ever. Little did Ron know that Harry often fantasized about that very subject, but not only about Hermione, for him as well. In Hermione's scenario, Harry would take her to on a romantic evening at her favorite book store, slip the ring between the pages of her favorite Shakespearean Sonnet, and ask her to read it to him. In Ron's, he would take him on a midnight broom flight and etch 'Will you marry me?' across the sky. He liked to think of himself as a helpless romantic.

For the majority of the lunch, Harry and Ron pitched various proposal ideas before finally deciding on the best one. Harry liked the fact that Ron greatly valued his opinions.

"Wow Harry, who knew you had a natural talent for this kind of thing. I swear if you did any of that stuff for me I would marry you on the spot." Ron joked.

Harry quickly picked up his drink and hoped to hide the flush that was rapidly spreading across his cheeks.

"I'm going to try to get off early so I can set everything up." Ron stuffed the last of his chips in his mouth, pulled out his wallet, and placed far too much Muggle money on the table. Harry sorted out the correct amount and handed the rest back to Ron.

"Thanks mate. Wish me luck. Merlin knows, I need all the luck I can get."

"Don't worry, you'll do fine."

"I hope so. See-ya later." Ron waved and walked off.

"Bye and good luck." Harry yelled after him. He downed the rest of his drink and paid their tab with the money Ron left. They always took turns paying for the other's meal whenever they went to lunch.

As Harry walked down the streets of Muggle London, he couldn't help but to feel a little envious of his best mates because they were about to embark on a new journey together, one in which he could not follow. It was selfish for him to feel that way and he knew it. He should be happy for them and support them like the best friend he was _supposed _to be.

Suddenly, Harry became very aware of the rising tide of shame and guilt that he'd been trying to ignore since his previous wanking session in the shower. The oncoming emotions were also mixed with a heavy dose of disappointment that stemmed from him breaking his own 'no-masturbating-while-thinking-of-your-friends' vow. Instantly he felt depressed and knew it could been seen all over his face. When this normally happened, Harry had enough time to compose himself before he had to interact with other people. However, due to terrible timing, he was now heading back to a place full of people who would be sticking their big fat noses in his business.

Perhaps now was a great time to visit the Hall of Pensieves to decipher Ron's mysterious message. He wouldn't have to worry about running into anyone because no one hardly ever went down there and he could come up with some story to explain to Lyons why he didn't directly report back after his lunch hour. The plan sounded great. However, Harry knew the mission's success relied heavily on his ability to convince the Titulari Memoria to allow him access to the Pensieves. He just hoped that he was able to hold himself together.

* * *

><p>AN: Dear Readers, I'm sooo sorry for the massive delay! Summer school was super tough, but now that it's over, my brain can focus better on my story. Hopefully the next update will be coming soon.


	6. Getting Nowhere

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or the characters. They are a product of J.K. Rowling's wonderful mind. This story is purely a work of fiction and it serves for entertainment purposes only. I gain no monetary profit from this story.

A/N: Sorry again for the delay. I really had a hard time writing this chapter. I think my creativity took a vacation and didn't let me know about it, lol. But now its back and hopefully ready to work again.

I just wanted to say thanks for all of your comments and encouragements.

Thank you Salon_Kitty for your time and support with helping me through this chapter. All other mistakes are my own.

* * *

><p>When the lift doors opened, Harry found himself on the infamous Level Nine headquarters for the Department of Mysteries; even after all these years the place still gave him the creeps. The cold, dark marble floors and the cathedral ceiling over the hallway made him feel like he was walking through a giant mausoleum. Gods, he wished he didn't have to be there, but the Hall of Pensieves was located on Level Ten and the only access was the stairwell on Level Nine.<p>

As he neared the end of the hall, he stopped for a moment to stare at the big, black door leading to the Entrance Chamber for the Department of Mysteries. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end just to look at it. So many terrible events took place behind that door. Although Harry had finally forgiven himself for Sirius' death and for getting Ron and Hermione maimed, he still carried a bit of guilt in his heart. He made a sharp left and descended the stairs to the Ministry's lowest level.

The Hall of Pensieves was a relatively new addition to the Ministry. The small department was managed by Pensieve expert, Mildred Hollingsberry, who pretentiously preferred to be addressed as Titulari Memoria, the Holder of Memories. It was said that her dour disposition rivaled Hogwart's very own librarian, Madame Irma Pince, and the former was known to be a stickler for proper documentation in regards to Pensieve use. Since Harry had neither documentation nor direct permission, his chances at getting one of the basins were slim to none, but then, when had he ever let something like rules stop him from accomplishing a goal?

He entered the tiny office and rang the bell on the reception desk. He was surprised to see that the person who answered the call was Bem Adebayo, a Gryffindor from his year.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Harry got straight to business and told him that he needed to use a Pensieve but didn't have court documentation to do so. Bem turned him down, said he couldn't help him because it would be against Ministry policies, but Harry remained persistent. When he was almost begging, the other man relented and finally agreed to allow Harry access only because his boss, the stern Titulari Memoria, just so happened to be in a meeting and would be out for the day.

Bem led him down a small hallway which opened to a large opened up to a room as spacious as a warehouse, the concrete walls lined with a variety of Pensieves of every shape and size ; large concrete walls were lined with several Pensieves that were of various shapes and sizes.

Harry walked up to the nearest one, placed his wand to his temple and pulled out the wispy, thread-like memory of his morning conversation with Ron. He let the swirling filament float to the basin, and when it lit up, he dipped his face inside.

Instantly, Harry was transported to the cozy confines of Ron and Hermione's room. He looked around and saw himself perched on the bed staring in pitiful wonderment at Ron as he paced back and forth across the carpet. Harry's cheeks reddened in embarrassment while he witnessed the open lustful gaze his morning-self was giving his best mate. Thank Merlin Ron was too busy having a nervous breakdown to notice Harry's lecherous looks. When memory-Ron slowed his steps and stood in front of his memory-self, Harry went closer to make sure he heard everything that was being said.

_ "Harry, I need to talk to you about… Hermione." _

Harry remembered those words because that sentence temporarily wiped all the sexy thoughts he had about Ron out of his mind.

_"Well, you see… you know how much I love Hermione. She's a wonderful woman and we've been so happy but… recently I feel like I'm on the verge of fucking up everything again. I know she's forgiven me for what I've done in the past and I know she accepts my uhh… _interests_, but sometimes I feel like I can't control my urges anymore and I've been having wonky thoughts lately about…"_

Suddenly, everything became distorted and Ron's words sounded garbled.

Harry stopped the memory and tried to understand what had happened. He restarted it from the beginning and everything seemed fine. However, once it got to the height of Ron's frantic speech, the scene became disjointed and incoherent again.

He reviewed it several times but eventually came to the horrible conclusion that the memory was corrupted.

* * *

><p>"Shit!" Harry angrily mumbled under his breath as he stormed out of the Hall of Pensives. He just could not believe his rotten luck; all the time he wasted analyzing the memory had gotten him nowhere. Not only had he learned absolutely zilch from Ron's vague and incomplete message, but he was also horribly late in returning back to duty. Lyons was going to skin his hide.<p>

Harry made his way to the lifts, and was relieved when he had gotten to use one alone. As soon as the doors closed he let out a frustrated growl. The red hot anger at himself and his situation had melted away the anxiety that routinely came about after he wanked to deviant thoughts of Ron and Hermione.

How could he have been so stupid? Of course the damned memory would be corrupted. He was so busy ogling Ron's sexy body that his senses had blocked out everything else. He couldn't even read his lips because his face had been blurred out as well. He really wished he could have heard the rest of the conversation because the small bit of information he received only left him even more confused.

What did Ron mean when he said that he felt like he was fucking everything up _again_? Could he be referring to the reason he and Hermione had briefly ended their relationship while she was finishing her seventh year at Hogwarts? Because neither of them had ever told Harry why they had broken up. And what did he mean by _interest _and _urges_? There were too many conclusions Harry could form with those words.

So, what the hell was he going to do? He really didn't want to bring himself to ask Ron to repeat what he'd said, thereby signifying his failure as a friend. Ron still had difficulty talking about his feelings and emotions. It was a rare and special occurrence for him to discuss matters of the heart and Harry had missed out on it because of his own selfish reasons.

He took his glasses off and pinched the brim of his nose and thought about his options.

Maybe he could ask Bem to help him clear up the memory's reception? The man was apprenticing under the best Pensive expert in all of London, surely he would know how to do something as simple as that?

Harry got off at Level Two and marched towards his department.

As soon as he entered, the receptionist called him over and handed him a note from Lyons. It said that he was giving Harry the rest of the day off because he suddenly had a family matter to attend.

_Wow_. Harry thought. He didn't have to face Lyons and he was given the rest of the day off. Maybe his luck was starting to change.

Harry quickly packed his things and made it out of the Ministry in record time. When he came up to the Disapparation point he stopped. He had intended to go straight home, get some rest, and then think about how to fix his memory problem, but then he remembered Ron would probably be there setting up for the big night. Since going home right then meant he was going to be in their way, Harry had to find something to occupy his time for the rest of the day.

After thinking about it for a moment, he decided he would go to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and hang there out for a bit, and maybe go to Mrs. Tonks house afterwards, to visit with Teddy. He closed his eyes and set his destination to Diagon Alley.

* * *

><p>Harry entered his flat and quietly closed the door behind him. Since he didn't know if his flatmates were home or not, he went straight to his room. Stripping down to his pants and not bothering to turn out the light, he flopped face down on top of his bed and flipped the sides of his duvet over his back because he was just too exhausted to get into them properly. It was late and it seemed that all the day's events were finally catching up to him.<p>

After spending a great afternoon with George and Lee, Harry took Andromeda and Teddy to dinner and spent the rest of the evening playing with his godson. The fun he had with the hyper tyke abated all the stress that accrued from his very trying morning. Harry noted that the rambunctious little boy always seemed to have a calming effect on him whenever stressed or upset.

He decided he would think about a solution for his memory problem tomorrow and drifted off to sleep.

A little while later, he woke up with a start when he thought he heard a noise. He looked wildly around the room trying to see where the source of the disturbance had come from but he couldn't find anything. After a few seconds he laid his head back down, thinking maybe his sleep-deprived brain was hallucinating. Then he heard the noise again and realized that someone was knocking on his door.

_Noooo..._ Harry whimpered to himself. He was so damned tired and didn't really want to answer the door. Maybe if he stayed quiet whoever it was would think he was asleep or not there.

He ignored the knocking but when the persistent git didn't take the hint, Harry let out a groan and crawled out of his duvet cocoon. Forgetting his glasses and housecoat, he blindly stumbled to the door and when he opened it, he was immediately pounced upon by …Hermione. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and squished her perky breast right into his bare chest. Harry was so shocked by her unexpected hug that he slightly fell back into the wall.

"Oh, Harry," she shouted excitedly and a little too loudly in his ear, "did you know all this time?"

He opened his mouth to speak but it was instantly flooded with her massive curls. Pulling a handful of strands out, he managed to say, "Know about what?"

She pulled back and shoved her hand in his face and said, "Know about this?"

Harry looked at her hand and tried to focus his poor eyesight on the glittering band around her finger but it only came up as a blur.

"Ron asked me to marry him, and I said yes!" She flung herself back into his arms and squeezed him tight around the neck again.

"Blimey Hermione, I know you're keyed up but let the poor man breathe." Ron said as he entered Harry's room. The redhead took a look at him and went to retrieve the glasses from the nightstand. Handing them to Harry, Ron continued, "And why are you shoving that thing in his face when you know he's blind as a bat?"

"Am not, you git," Harry retorted.

Hermione let him go and looked up at Ron.

Harry slid his glasses on just in time to see the cute little irritated face that Hermione always made when she was about to get into a bickering row with Ron.

"Well excuse me _Ronald_ for wanting to share my happiness with my best friend." She exaggeratedly rolled her eyes at him, and turned and smiled at Harry.

"I'm sorry Harry, I was so caught up in the moment that I hadn't realized your glasses were off."

"It's fine," he laughed quietly, "congratulations! I'm so happy for the both of you!" Despite his selfish misgivings, he genuinely was happy for them. They had been crazy for each other since they were kids, and to see them finally come together as Wizard and Wife was a very lovely and beautiful thing, he thought.

"Could I see your ring again?" Harry asked, now being able to properly view it.

"Sure." Hermione held out her dainty hand and he took it.

"Wow." Harry said. Ron must have put his heart and soul into designing the ring because it was absolutely stunning "It's beautiful."

"Thanks Harry. We decided to announce the engagement at the family picnic this Saturday."

"You think you can hold it in that long?" he joked.

"I'll try." She chortled. "Oh, there's one more thing. Ron and I decided to forgo the tradition of waiting a year to get married; we're going to do it in two months."

Two months. He only had two months left with them. He really must have pissed the universe off somehow because this change of events was just too much for him to handle. Harry dug deep and miraculously maintained the smile on his face.

Ron must have gotten his wish for a speedy marriage.

"Brilliant." He forced out. He turned his back to them and tried to casually walk over to his bed. He just had to know when they were leaving but couldn't look at their faces for his next question.

"I don't mean to sound so upfront but when are you going to…umm…you know…?" He couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Move out?" Ron suggested.

Damn his little room. He made it to his bed before they could answer. He sat down and nodded his head.

Ron and Hermione shared a glance and then Ron said, "Well, we hope you don't mind, but we didn't plan on moving out immediately. With wedding costs and other bills, we have to save up a bit first."

"Oh, there's no need to rush. You can take as much time as you need. In fact, you never have to leave." Harry attempted to hide his honest statement as a joke.

"Aww, you're too kind." Hermione said giving him a cheeky grin. He knew she and Ron had taken his comment as a bit of cheek of his own but they didn't know that it was a desperate plea for them to stay.

"Besides, do you know how involved the process of getting a house can be?" She then went into a long speech about tax brackets and credit scores. Harry really wanted to pay attention but his heavy eyelids refused to obey him.

When Ron noticed his sleepy look, he turned and scooped Hermione up over his shoulder like a caveman. She squealed and kicked her legs, surprised by the sudden lift. Ron's firm arm over her thighs was the only thing that kept her skirt from slipping up and exposing her luscious arse.

"Put me down this instant Ronald Billius Weasley!" she shouted. Harry winced because he knew when she used his full name a fantastic row was brewing.

"Come now dear," Ron said in a condescending tone, "you can tell him all about tax braces and credit fairies in the morning."

He turned around and walked towards the door. Because of the position she was in, her face was flushed red and her blouse was pulled down revealing a bit more cleavage then she normally allowed.

"Goodnight Harry. _I'll_ see you at breakfast in the morning, I can't say if your friend will be surviving the night to join us," she threatened.

Ron turned around and grabbed the door handle with his free hand, with a still kicking Hermione over his shoulder.

"Night, Harry." He gave him a smile and closed the door behind him.

Harry placed two silencing spells on his wall and got under his covers. He couldn't risk hearing them make love tonight because he was already tempted to wank from watching how Ron had manhandled Hermione out of his room. Hearing them rolling around in their bed would seal the deal on him doing just that.

Harry settled in and _Nox'd _the lights this time. For some reason a confession that Ron made to him popped in his head.

A few years ago, on a very drunken night at a pub, Harry had once asked Ron why he and Hermione bickered so much. Ron said that seeing her so fiery and angry turned him on enormously and he admitted that he often started fights just because they served as some bizarre form of foreplay to him.

Judging by Hermione's tone and threats, Ron was in for a long and passionate night.

Sometimes he wondered if Ron remembered telling him that.

Just before Harry's mind slipped from consciousness, he realized the entire time they were in his room he was wearing nothing but a pair of pants.

The universe was cruel indeed.


End file.
